Puns and other obsessions. A trip inside an OCD mind.

Do I Wish I Didn’t Have Issues

The answer to that question is complicated. If it were a yes/no answer, it would have been such a short post.My experience with OCD and depression has been tough so far to say the least. Most people who have gone through exam periods will know what worrying and anxiety feels like. So it is not that hard to fathom what anxiety disorders are about. The only difference is that the former example’s anxiety is rational and justified, while the latter’s isn’t and stays with the sufferer for a longer periods of time.

I am grateful I do have OCD. As weird as that sounds, it’s perfectly normal to me. If I were given the choice to live without the aforementioned issues, I really really doubt my answer would be yes. In all honesty I don’t know how to live without them. They are an integral part of me. They have become something I am used to and accustomed to feeling. I think they made me suffer from Stockholm Syndrome. However, this is not the main reason. There is another reason which is not going to sound logical but it is really how I feel.

The relatively illogical reason is as follows. I always thought that because I have OCD, there is someone out there who doesn’t suffer from it because I took on the part of having the illness. I keep thinking that it’s okay I am feeling depressed because I took that burden of someone else. I also feel like if it had to happen, I’m happy it happened to me, that is because I know me. I don’t have to worry about someone else. I tend to worry and feel guilty when I know someone has an illness or is passing through tough times. I’m not saying this so I could be called a gentle and kind soul, or a very caring person. I don’t care about these labels. It is just how I truly feel, and I felt this should be said.

I know me better than I know any other person. And I feel that I can handle what I am passing through. I think that everyone (to a certain extent) feels he can do or control things better than others. I have decided long ago that I wasn’t going to quit. I have passed through periods of utter despair where I truly believed that nothing will be better and I was in a very dark place. There was times when I lost the will to live. I just wanted my existence to cease. But that promise I kind of made to myself kept me going. Anyone who has had experience with severe depression will tell you that at any given time, suicide is a thought. Even if you wouldn’t do it, the thought is there and it is pretty normal to have it. However it wasn’t something I would do it to myself or to anyone around me. As hard as it was I kept myself from doing it. I don’t know why but I did. I can’t think of a single reason, because in such types you care about nothing and no one; not even yourself.

That’s just how I feel, and how I reason things. Call me weird, unorthodox, abnormal; I am all these things and that is pretty normal to me.